Sign of the Times
by Elite-Saiya-jin-Jenny
Summary: Most of the Zgang is dead, but the others are living and thriving in their times of peace...but only for so long.


Sign of the Times

By EliteSaiya-jinJenny

Author's Note: Wow…I just noticed that I tend to name my fics after song titles. Easier to Run (Linkin Park), Sign of the Times (Queensryche), and…well there aren't any others, but yeah. Anyway, I've been harboring this idea in my mind for some time now, helped out, of course, by a VERY close friend of mine, and well, I'm bored, so you're gonna read it…or die. Yes, die. And under the very rare circumstances that you manage to escape this fic, you'll just kill yourself from having missed out on such a sad, angsty, Vegeta fanfic. So, to be blunt, read or die. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: This won't be announced again, so I suggest you open your closed ears and listen: I don't own Dragonball Z/GT, Akira Toriyama, or any of his crap…which is not crap, considering how I'm obsessed enough to write a fanfic, and should be treasured dearly by those who are NOT Akira Toriyama.

A/N: I'll be changing POV's every so often, so I can get some skill in those areas and be able to become flexible. If I feel nice, and I just might, I'll probably let you know when I'm changing POV. Okay, onto the fic!

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Chapter One: Pax Dragona

..Vegeta's POV..

It's been a while since the last time there's been anything considered "epic" among battles here on Earth. Perhaps even over one hundred years. But who's counting? Certainly not me, though I'm foolish to lie to myself about something like that. Frankly, times are peaceful, and not in the dreaded "I'll-kill-myself-if-I-have-to-endure-another-boring-day" way of peaceful, but the kind of peace that I myself have grown accustomed to.

To be honest, it's been about 350 years since the battle with the Dragons, and about 355 years since Kakarrot returned. To continue being honest, as much as I'd like to think I've figured out the other Saiya-jin, I haven't. I have no idea why the fool returned, though I can't really think of a reason as to why he left in the first place. Maybe his train of thought was still lingering on what my wife said a long time ago, something along the lines of him bringing trouble to Earth. If such a thing was true, and it might be, then I'd have forced the clown to stay. But, like I said, there hasn't been any action around here since that battle over three centuries back.

But I'm straying from my point. Point is, I'm rather enjoying this peace, and I'm just bluntly enjoying how things have been going. Training, sad and quite difficult to say, doesn't benefit like it used to. But I've been continuing anyway, just so I can say that I haven't really changed, and also because it's in me either way. Why deny it? So what else have I been doing with myself for so long? Actually, I've been doing what Bulma would have considered to be productive. If only the harpy, Kami rest her soul, could see me now. Trunks has, and will be until the day it dies, been the head of Capsule Corp., which, surprisingly, is still alive and thriving. Out of sheer boredom, and maybe a little too much to drink, I agreed to take on a job at the company to occupy the gaping holes of boredom. I don't regret that decision, as it actually has benefited me in a few ways. I'm head of the Mechanics department, and it didn't really take me too long. Go figure. I've been toying with things more complicated since I was practically born. But it still proves to be baffling, one way or another.

As much as I love being a Saiya-jin, there are downfalls. The one that plagues me most is the most inhuman lifespan. I can't even remember how old I am, but time shows almost no hint of itself on my almost flawless face. With beauty comes pain, like the old adage of roses or something. My hair is the same as when I first arrived on Earth. After the prolonged death of my ex-wife, I grew it back. She was the one whom made me cut it in the first place. So I look about the same as when I first arrived, though, as painful it is for me to admit, I've grayed a little.

The real problem here, however, is that everyone from the "old days" is dead, almost everyone. The only whom remain are Dende, Piccolo, my son, Kakarrot, and his second son. Everyone else was taken by age, and probably other things I wouldn't know about. Dende and Piccolo, the Nameks, raise no questions in my mind when considering how they still live. I was told some time back that the Namekian race can live quite long, perhaps even longer than Saiya-jins. Though age definitely shows hints on the older Namek. The younger one, however, and secretly, has been searching for a successor. And, only known to me and Kakarrot, has long since found the said successors. I won't say any more on that, considering how I'm supposed to keep it to myself until they need to know. Needless to say, when I found out, I was surprised, and pleased, even. But I can't say any more.

Kakarrot, though, looks almost exactly like when I first met him. True, he was reverted to a child state (and most suitably, considering how that's how his mind works), but it wasn't permanent. He grew like normal after he returned from his "long journey" though it wasn't long at all; like I mentioned, five years tops. When asked about why he returned so early, he would always avoid the question or, contrast to his normal attitude, would actually snap and force the topic away from such things. And, much to my surprise when I found out, the moron works for my son also. He's part of the Production Department and actually has been working hard. The fool finally found something he's good at other than eating and fighting.

Kakarrot's son, the one that's alive, Goten, looks just like he used to, with a few minor adjustments, and actually works as my son's assistant, considering how he can't make use of himself otherwise.

My son also looks the same, and is quite the man I raised him to be. Though he takes kindly to the humans that work for him, he won't hesitate to fire anyone for any sort of major mistake. Makes me quite proud.

So, basically, we all work at Capsule Corp., with the exception of Piccolo. He positively refused when offered a job by Trunks. He said that he would scare the people and would no demean himself with a pathetic human job. We all, also, inhabit the living quarters of Capsule Corp. After the last of our "Z-gang" died out, Kakarrot and his son didn't really see any point in living like deranged mongrels, and moved in. I was dismayed at first, but, like most other things in my life right now, I'm quite used to it. Generally, things are well. I train with Kakarrot every now and then, then we both get back to work, along with my son and Goten.

"Um…..Mister Vegeta, sir?"

Vegeta blinked, shaking himself out of his stupor and looking around. Next to him stood a very meek-looking man, though a little burly when compared to others. He looked over at the man, "What is it, Gordon?"

Gordon smiled nervously and pointed over to the ship that he and Vegeta were currently working on. Many other workers, in fact were staring at the two. They must have been standing there for a while.

Vegeta growled to himself and reached over to grasp his toolbox, which he had forgotten when going under the ship to repair it. That was when he had drifted out of the current time and space, and was shaken from it. He strode over to the ship and set the toolbox next to a greasy-looking matt under the great ship. The short Saiya-jin reached over onto a table, laden with many different assorted tools and parts, and pulled out of, what seemed like nowhere, a pair of dirty, yellow gloves. He placed them on, stretching his fingers out and cringing as they cracked. The man then knelt down and lay himself down on the matt, crawling into the deep shade of the ship.

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So? What do you think so far? Yeah, sounds boring now, but it'll get REALLY sad and angsty, I promise.


End file.
